Poking A Sleeping Dragon
by Little.Miss.Xanda
Summary: They had learned at a young age that the Ministry was corrupt. They had seen with their own eyes how little the Ministry cared about the people it was supposed to protect. And now the Ministry was after one of their own. Harry had never wanted this power, but the Ministry had no one to blame but themselves.


**Disclaimer** : This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling. No money is being made.

 **Written for Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition – Finals Round Two**

 **Prompt –** **Oh, That's Such a Cliche -** We've all seen them, the ones we pretend not to like but really, we can't help ourselves. I'm talking about the overused cliches stories we've all read. Each position has a choice, and the 'originality' portion of the judging rubric will be very important this round, because we want you to put an entirely new spin on your chosen cliche!

 **Seeker** : Choose either a MarySue/GaryStu, Marriage Law or Bodyswap fic. Choose carefully as your Captain and Keeper must use the other two

 **Picked** : Marriage Law

 **Seeker for the** **amazing Wimbourne Wasps**

* * *

 **Poking A Sleeping Dragon**

The silence was almost suffocating. Harry didn't blame them; the news they had just gotten would leave anyone in that state. Well, anyone who was affected by it at least. Harry was rather happy with the outcome.

"You cannot be serious!" Harry glanced at the older wizard in the back of the Wizengamot.

"I am," he replied, leaning back on his seat in the middle of the room. Really, if one disregarded the chains that decorated the chair, it was rather comfortable.

"The boy is obviously lying!" the woman dressed in pink sitting beside Fudge exclaimed. She looked slightly deranged, but that was fine by him. It was their fault he was in this situation in the first place.

If they had only been fair, had given him a fair trial, none of this would have happened. But no, the Ministry was corrupt beyond reason, and Harry had been forced to act. Thank Merlin one of the brightest witches of their age was his best friend. Though, to be fair, part of the solution had come from Ron, even if it had been more of a joke than an actual plan.

"I volunteer to be fed Veritaserum, if you wish." Harry almost smiled at their spluttering.

"Mr. Potter." Harry smiled at Madam Bones – she seemed to be the only one present who was actually trying to give him a fair trial. "What you are saying – it simply is not possible."

Well, she was only partially right. Usually it wouldn't be possible, but he was a _Potter_ , and that made all the difference.

"Tell me, Madam Bones, why is that seat behind the three of you vacant?"

"It is the seat of the Head of the council. Before the Ministry was established, there was a council. All the members answered to that Head. His word was law. Then he created the Ministry, but every member of the Wizengamot is still sworn to uphold the laws dictated by the Head of the Council." Madam Bones was frowning slightly, ignoring Fudge's spluttering.

"Then that Head retired, correct? Never to be seen again."

"Correct." Madam Bones nodded, while a couple other members muttered their agreement. "The seat has been vacant since it is hereditary and only a descendant can claim it."

"So, if there was a descendant, and he took the seat, his word would be law?" Harry almost grinned when Madam Bones' eyes narrowed.

"Yes."

"Then, Ladies and Gentleman of the Wizengamot, I hereby claim my seat." And with just a little touch of magic, the chair he had been sitting on flashed a bright gold color, and Harry found himself sitting in the vacant chair behind the seated members of the Wizengamot.

Again, deafening silence filled the room, while they tried to understand just what had happened. Harry couldn't quite contain his smirk when he saw Fudge gaping at him.

"So, I repeat my earlier statement. I cannot be forced into a marriage of your choosing, to a wizard or witch that would help control my 'wild nature', simply because there is no one of British descent that is my peer."

* * *

Harry looked at his best friends, frowning slightly at their apprehensive expressions. "What is it?" he asked.

Hermione and Ron traded a look, which just worried Harry more.

"Have you been reading the Prophet?" Hermione asked, taking a seat on the bed beside him, while Ron sat on the other one.

"No." Harry shook his head. "I stopped reading when I saw they weren't printing anything about Voldemort. Why?" He narrowed his eyes.

"They… they have been defaming you. When it isn't written outright, then it's little hints here and there. We believe it's Fudge's way of discrediting you. He can't go after you directly, so he is doing it through the paper."

"Great, just great," Harry grumbled. "This trial won't help at all with that. Will I even get a fair trial as things are?"

"Well, it's not a trial; it's a hearing for underage magic. They can't give you a trial for underage magic."

Ron snorted, looking at Hermione incredulously. "Does it matter which one it is? Besides, from what we've seen, it wouldn't surprise me if they did put Harry through a trial. You know what they did to Hagrid, to Sirius. Do you think they care about the laws?" Ron shook his head. "Well, I suppose they would care if it was advantageous for them, but that's about it. Really, we should be thankful that this is everything they are doing. At least they aren't using the Marriage Law to mess with Harry."

Harry and Hermione looked at him wide eyed, a touch of horror in their eyes.

"Marriage Law?" Hermione asked, the same expression gracing her features as when she had found out about house-elves.

"Well, that's not really the name of it. But it's basically what it is. All the purebloods know about it." Ron grimaced. "I don't think it's used much nowadays, but it's still a law. Basically, an underage Heir that has no magical family left can be ordered by the Ministry to marry an overage witch or wizard for their own safety. The overage wizard would control everything about the underage wizard. It was supposed to protect influential orphans, and usually the person that the Heir was married off to was a close friend of the family, but as you can imagine, it was often misused." Ron looked grim.

Harry could certainly empathize. How could the Ministry accept this? How could such a law still be in effect? Harry loved the Wizarding World, he truly did, but when he heard about things like this, he couldn't help but wonder if he wouldn't have been better off in the muggle world.

"We need to know that law, now." Hermione's eyes were wide, her bushy hair seeming to puff up as they watched.

"What? Why?"

"Honestly, Ronald, don't you think?" she snapped. "You said it yourself. The Ministry only cares about the laws that they find useful. Don't you think this is useful to them?"

"Hermione…" Ron leaned forward, frowning. "This hasn't been done in years. I think the last case was over a century ago."

"Which, all things considered, isn't all that long ago. Don't you see?" she asked, looking at them. Harry could clearly see the worry that was starting to show in her eyes. "With all those things in the Prophet? That could be Fudge setting things up for this. Who would think wrongly of Fudge if he married Harry off for his own protection? I'm sure this is what he's trying to do. I'm sure of it. And if it isn't, then it isn't and you can tease me about being a fusspot, but do you really want to chance it?"

"And…" Harry licked his suddenly dry lips. "And if it is?"

Ron and Hermione's eyes narrowed, a hard light to them that Harry recognized all the way back from first year when they had been nothing more than little firsties and had been ready to face Voldemort with him.

"Then we'll find a way to fight it." Ron told him, and Harry couldn't help but believe him.

* * *

Hermione had set to work right away, Harry and Ron following without complaining for once. She had cornered Sirius and asked him if there were any law books in the Black library. Sirius had directed her towards the section concerning law, which had left the three of them gaping at the amount of books. Sirius had smirked, saying that the Black family probably knew every law in the books and every loophole too. The best way to beat the law, he told them, was to know it from top to bottom.

And that was where they had been for the last few hours. They had been pouring through book after book, trying to find anything that would be able to help them.

"I think I found it," Ron murmured, his eyes going wide. "Yes, I think this is it. Hey, Hermione!" he called, and Hermione's head popped up from the row of books behind them. "I think I found it."

Her eyes lit up. She dropped the book she had been holding and raced over. "Show me."

Ron barely had time to point her the correct page before the book was snatched from his hands. Her eyes roved over the pages, her frown increasing the longer she read.

She sat on the armchair beside Ron. "This is it. It's called the Protection of Orphaned Heirs by a Dominant/Submissive Bond. It's truly horrid. The dominant party, meaning the overage wizard or witch, would be responsible about everything concerning the underage Heir. They could even go as far as forbid him to talk to determined people. They have complete control over everything the Heir does, until they turn twenty-one; which is when the bond would be changed to a normal marriage bond. This is… this is absolutely barbaric."

"Is there a way out of it? What can we do?" Harry would rather face Voldemort once more than be married off to a Ministry flunky. He couldn't live like that. He would first leave the Wizarding World before allowing himself to be enslaved. Because that was what it was, enslavement – even if they used pretty words to hide it.

"You can simply refuse, young Heir."

The three Gryffindors jumped out of their seats, looking wide-eyed to where the voice was coming from. Partially hidden by a drape was a portrait where they could see a middle aged man sitting on an armchair. Slowly, Harry got up and pulled the drape the rest of the way, revealing the portrait in its entirety. The man was definitely a Black – he had the same high cheekbones, black silky hair, and startling silver eyes. Harry couldn't help but wonder if it was the magic making generation after generation share so many similar traits.

"Good evening, young Heir. I am sorry for intruding, however, I could not help but hear the conversation and believed that you could make use of my help." The man's lips twitched slightly and his eyes held a spark that Harry had seen often in Sirius' eyes.

"What do you mean, he can refuse?" Hermione interrupted, before blushing bright red. "I'm sorry, that was rude. I'm Hermione Granger, and these are Ron Weasley and Harry Potter."

"It is quite alright, my dear. I understand you must be worried about your friend. I am Cepheus Black, the Second. I was born in 1646 and I was part of the Council before the Ministry was founded in 1707. And I meant exactly what I said: the young Heir may simply refuse."

"How?" Ron frowned. "I thought the underage Heir had no choice in the matter."

"That is correct," the portrait agreed. "However, it is stated in the law that the overage wizard or witch must be at least equal in terms of titles and holdings to the underage Heir, otherwise there can be no match. And you, young Heir, have no peers."

"But… I'm just Harry."

The portrait motioned him closer, a small smirk appearing on his lips. "Come, young Heir. Let me tell you about your family."

* * *

All those days ago, when Cepheus told him about his family, about how Cepheus had been a dear friend of the Head of the Council and one of the few that knew that Emric Peverell, the Head of the Council, hadn't disappeared. Emric had simple changed his name to Emric Potter. Emric had stayed out of public eye for a long while, and when the Potters appeared in society, they were simply considered a relatively new pureblood family.

Harry had been fascinated with all of it. He couldn't help but respect Emric Peverell; not everyone would have been able to give up their power like that. However, according to Cepheus, Emric had been much like his great-grandfather, Ignotus Peverell, and had just wished to lead a quiet life with his family.

Still, when Cepheus had been telling him all of it, part of Harry had hoped that it wouldn't have come to this. That there would have been no need for him to actually use this knowledge. He wanted this power just as little as Emric had wanted it, and now, because of a petty, little man, he had been forced to act.

He looked down at the Wizengamot members, who were staring at him wide eyed, the realization of just what had happened finally starting to sink in.

"It is your actions that have put me in this position." Harry's voice was low, however it carried to every corner of the chamber. "If only you had been fair, then none of this would have happened. But you, Fudge, couldn't do that, could you? In your fear and arrogance, you refused to accept the truth. You tried to enslave me to someone who would control me." Harry sneered at the cowering man. "Did you really think it would have been that easy? That I would let you walk all over me? I faced Voldemort; in which universe do you think I would be afraid of someone like you?" Harry leaned back, his eyes sweeping over the assembled witches and wizards. "Because of your hunger for power, you have ended up with a fifteen year old in charge of the Government." Harry shook his head. "Then again, it seems impossible to be worse at it than you."

"How dare you, you impudent, little brat." the pink woman beside Fudge jumped to her feet, looking reading to murder him.

"Sit down. Be silent." The chair she had vacated sprouted chains, which flew at the woman and pulled her back to the chair, keeping her in place. She was clearly still yelling at him, but no sound came out of her. Everyone was staring at him wide-eyed, some of them shifting in their seats uncomfortably. "I do not think you truly understand the consequences of your actions. By trying to marry me off to Miss Umbridge, whoever she may be, you forced my hand. As I said, I just wanted a fair hearing or, since you called for an illegal trial for a fifteen year old for a case of underage magic, a just trial. It isn't too much to ask for, is it?" He raised an eyebrow. "Actually the right to a fair trial is something every citizen is entitled to; isn't that correct, Madam Bones?"

"That is correct, my Lord."

Harry almost grimaced at that. Dear Merlin, that would take some getting used to. He was lucky that Cepheus had taken the time to coach him, otherwise he would have no ideas about how to act.

"Yet, I was denied my basic rights." He shook his head. "I can't help but wonder how many others were in the same position as I was, and had no way of fighting back." And now, now would come the part he dreaded and anticipated in equal measures. On one hand, the fact that he had the power to do what he was about to do terrified him. He didn't want that kind of power, he had never wanted it. But, as Hermione had pointed out to him time and time again over the last few days, he could do something _good_ with this.

"The amount of corruption running rampant in the Wizengamot, in the Ministry, is disgusting, and it is something I will no longer tolerate. The Ministry was established for the good of the public, not so that its members could better serve their own needs."

This elicited muttering all around, a member further down to his left the loudest amongst them, "You can't just walk in here–"

"Silence." His voice remained even and calm, but it was enough. Just like the lady in pink, everyone fell silent. Inside these chambers his word was law, the magic made sure of it. "I didn't walk in here. I was summoned by this Council. As I said, you have no one to blame but yourselves." The truth of what was happening seemed to have finally registered in their minds, most of them looking resigned, while a few looked almost as murderous as the woman dressed in pink resembling a toad.

"Unlike what Fudge claims, Voldemort _is_ back. We are on the brink of war, because Voldemort will bring this war to our doorsteps, you can be sure of it. And winning this war will start here, at the heart of the Government. We will start by cleaning up the Wizengamot and the Ministry. And if I have to bring down the Ministry and build it back up brick by brick to clean it of the corruption infesting it, then so be it."

Harry looked around, shocked to see the approving glint in the eyes of more than half the people in the room. He leaned back on his seat, a spark of hope igniting in his heart. Maybe he could do this after all.

The Wizarding World was at the dawn of a new beginning, and to think it was all because Fudge wanted to marry him off to some witch called Umbridge.


End file.
